Breathe

a picture of the poem, written on a typewriter

Breathe
I cannot see, it is only black
Breathe, eyes closed.
I cannot see, it is only black
Breathe. Open your eyes
Can you see now?
O cannot see, only blackness.
Wait, now I see bright light
and everything is blurry.
Breathe
Back to just seeing black.
I cannot see, breathe.
Breathe.

At breakfast

a picture of the poem, written on. typerwriter.

White plate, 2-egg omelet
Leftover potatoes from dinner
Half of an avocado.
Morning conversation
Brief yet pleasant, hopeful
Sometimes just informational.
The morning light shields us
from the alerts and notifications
that await, that lurk
on devices in other rooms. 

A good recovery

a picture of the poem, written on a typewriter.

A good recovery should
make us less vulnerable to
future risks.
It’s not a “step”.
nor an item on a list.
It is time. It is a process.
Filled with empathy and care
Filled with space, empty
and at times, silent.
Allowing for anger, grief,
denial, deflection, bitterness,
depression.
Giving way to acceptance, embrace,
new knowledge, ingenuity, planning,
hope.
healing.

Touch

a picture of the poem, written on a typewriter

Internal energy stored
kinetic, almost hyper
Longing for contact
Longing to be used to its potential.
Released by your touch
Released by your presence.
Contact allows flow
at first, bottlenecked by excitement
then steady and constant
Kinetic, almost hyper
Waiting for that touch.